


Human Reactions

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x18 coda, M/M, jealous!Dean, sort of, spoilers: they make out and have feelings, this is as schmoopy as a canon-verse fic can get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 10x18 coda.  Dean tries to wheedle some information from Cas about his relationship with Hannah; Cas is obtuse, until he isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Reactions

**Author's Note:**

> Working off of the momentum of my last fic. I needed more 10x18 codas, so I wrote one of my own.

Long after Sam has wandered off to bed, and a few minutes after Charlie stumbled, yawning, from the bathroom, Dean gathers up the plates and napkins from the table. He can sense Cas standing awkwardly at his shoulder, so he thrusts a pizza box at the angel’s torso. 

“Fridge,” he says, once Cas has the box in his hands. 

Cas nods once and heads toward the kitchen. Dean watches him go, trying to distinguish the angel from the human, but comes up empty. He picks up a few more plates and follows Cas into the kitchen. 

When he arrives, he finds Cas bent over in front of the open fridge, squinting at a beer bottle. 

“Curious?” Dean asks, as he tosses the paper products into a trash bin. “You’re welcome to crack one open, you know.”

Cas looks at Dean. His puzzled expression doesn’t change. “It says it’s ‘a taste of heaven.’”

Dean shrugs, throwing a smile at his friend. “It’s good, Cas, but it’s not as good as - well, actually, it might be better than heaven now. What’s the story up there?”

Cas’s lips grow thin. He pulls out two bottles from the fridge and offers one to Dean. “Hannah more or less has it under control,” he says. He doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes, which is shady, but maybe Dean is reading too much into it. 

Dean fishes a bottle opener from a nearby drawer and pops his beer open. He turns to hand the bottle opener to Cas, but Cas’s bottle is open and halfway to his mouth already. The perks of a newly-restored grace, Dean guesses.

He tosses the gadget into the drawer and closes it roughly. If Cas notices, he doesn’t say anything.

They drink their beers in silence, facing each other. Cas stands near the fridge; Dean leans on the island behind him. He casts his eye over the kitchen - anything to avoid watching the play of light across Cas’s face - and catches sight of Charlie’s cootie catcher in the trash. He remembers the puzzlement on Cas’s face when Charlie had told him what his fortune was, and he finds he’s curious.

“So, uh - the cootie catcher. What’d it say about your future?”

Cas arches an eyebrow, which tells Dean exactly what he thinks of Charlie’s fortune-telling. “It told me, ‘A friend will become a lover.’”

Dean’s stomach flips; he blames it on the beer. “A friend, huh? I know you’ve got at least one lady friend who isn’t out to kill you. How’s uh - how are things there?”

Cas’s expression doesn’t shift, which tells Dean exactly what he thinks about Dean’s interpretation of Charlie’s fortune-telling. “Charlie is not attracted to males - or, in my case, male vessels.“

“What? Oh, dude. Not Charlie - Hannah!”

“Ah.” Cas raises his eyebrows. “Dean, you understand that angels are neither male nor female?”

“I’ve been told, yeah,” Dean mutters, rolling his eyes. He takes a long pull from his beer.

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean’s response, but continues anyway. “At any rate, if you feel more comfortable - and less confused - by assigning us genders according to our vessel’s designation, I feel inclined to tell you that Hannah is now technically a male.”

Dean’s eyebrows fly up. “Oh. Uh. Is that - weird? Don’t you two have a - thing?” He has a sudden vision of Hannah as a handsome, dark-eyed man, and ignores the jealous jolt to his stomach at the thought of that man and Cas being together.

“Hannah and I do not ‘have a thing,’ as you say. It’s true that in her former vessel she believed herself to have romantic feelings for me, but that is a thing of the past.”

“So she did like you? Cas, buddy, that’s still ‘a thing.’”

“I do not consider it ‘a thing,’ because I did not return her feelings.” Cas lifts his hands to make quotation marks in the air as he says this; Dean feels a smile tug at his lips.

“So, then, what’s the deal with her? She puts on a male vessel and her feelings just poof - disappear?”

Cas’s brow furrows; he blinks at his beer as he considers. When he answers, Dean is lifting his beer to his lips. “When Hannah kissed me,” - this is where Dean starts violently coughing up the beer he just drank - “I politely but firmly informed her that we... had other priorities. I believe this is when she understood that I did not return her feelings, and consequently, when she was able to re-dedicate her focus on our mission.” He takes a contemplative sip of his beer. “To answer your question - it’s possible that if I had not rebuffed her advances that day, she would have carried feelings for me into her male vessel.”

Dean clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a sleeve. “So a dude would be into you.”

Cas’s mouth twists in painful consideration. “If you want to see it like that, then yes.”

“And… what, that’s okay with you?” Dean tries to phrase the question carefully, casually, like he has no investment in the answer.

“I am not ‘okay’ with anybody having feelings for me when I do not return them. It is a waste of time and focus on their part; I do not wish to be a distraction or cause for pain, especially if I do not return their feelings.” Cas has finally relaxed; he leans against the fridge and holds one arm close to his body. He waves the hand holding a beer for emphasis.

“Okay, sure, but - do you - are you okay with a _male_ being into you? Generally speaking?”

Cas shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “Oh,” he says, suddenly quiet. There is a hint of red at the peek of skin around his collar. “I uh - I have no preference concerning the gender of my sexual partners.”

Whoa there. Dean holds up his free hand to try and curb this disaster of a conversation. “Slow your roll there, big guy - who said anything about sexual partners? I’m talking - you know. A girlfriend. Boyfriend.”

Though his face is still pink, Cas’s glare is enough for Dean to feel a little bit cowed. “Dean,” he says, “You know that I have not been in anything near what you would call a typical romantic relationship.”

Dean is not getting his answer. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I know, one was a demon and another was a murderer and the other just wanted a babysitter, tough luck, buddy - I just wanted to - just tell me: are you... open to being in a romantic relationship with a man?” His face heats, and he feels the slightest tremor starting in his limbs, but it’s the most direct way Dean can think of to draw an answer out of Cas.

Cas, for his part, takes his time considering. He scratches absently at his temple - not because of any real itch, Dean knows, but probably just out of habit by now. Finally, Cas opens his mouth. “I suppose I am. But a romantic relationship is not exactly on my list of priorities right now, despite what Charlie’s ‘cootie catcher’ may tell me.”

Dean swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Cool. Me neither.” And it’s true - Dean’s got way, _way_ too much on his plate right now to think of pursuing... anything. Or anyone. And anyhow, Cas has got the same shit to deal with - saving Dean and/or killing Dean and/or saving the planet. Obviously, neither of them are anywhere near well enough to participate in a healthy relationship.

But he still can’t help feeling disappointed by Cas’s answer, which just pisses him off more. He drains his bottle in one long pull, tossing his head back. He’s about to toss the bottle into the trash and bid a short good night to Cas when the angel steps forward suddenly.

“A relationship is not ideal for me right now because I have more important things to take care of,” he says significantly. “Like you.” The look he gives Dean is long and discerning, and Dean knows in that instant that Cas _gets it_ ; he gets why Dean was asking the questions, understands Dean’s need to know if Cas was capable of returning feelings from a man. Because Dean is a man.

Cas steps even closer and fits a firm hand over the Mark, which had been blessedly almost quiet for most of the night - but not anymore. Dean grits his teeth, feeling the scar come alive under Cas’s touch. It throbs viciously with a heartbeat separate from his, separate from Cas’s. The other man’s eyes follow the tension in Dean’s expression. He lifts his free hand and curves it around Dean’s jaw. 

“When this is over,” he says, voice rough, “I would like to take you to dinner. Until then, you already have me, as a friend - as something more, if you wish. But my focus is saving you, Dean - whether you like it or not - and that would remain the same, even if you didn’t return my feelings. You are my priority.”

The feeling that overtakes Dean is dizzying and overwhelming - Dean breathes against Cas’s hand, his eyes closed, and concentrates on Cas’s closeness; it distracts from the pin-sharp heat of the Mark. Dean’s free hand gropes blindly in the space between their bodies; it finds the open edge of Cas’s suit jacket and clutches tightly. Turning his head, Dean presses a soft kiss to the warmth of Cas’s palm.

When he opens his eyes and meets Cas’s gaze, he finds the other man’s pupils dilated so that his blue eyes seem almost completely black. Cas’s breath is shallow against his jaw, and Dean shivers minutely. 

“You sure you’re an angel?” he asks softly, a whisper in the scant few inches between them. 

Cas licks his lips. “I think - my grace may still be recovering, or maybe - maybe this is what I am now - my reactions… decidedly human.” He’s staring at Dean’s lips now, which doesn’t help matters. “I apologize.”

“Shit, Cas.” Dean lands a swift kiss on Cas’s jaw. “Don’t apologize.” He wants so much right now. He wants Cas in more ways than one, but more than anything, especially if it’s for a Limited Time Only, he wants Cas and all his human reactions.

He ducks his head and presses a ribbon of open-mouthed kisses to Cas’s neck, reveling in the gasps and stifled groans he elicits from Cas’s throat. Cas’s hand tightens around the Mark on Dean’s arm, but Dean barely feels it past the fluttering of Cas’s human pulse under his lips. He continues like this long enough for his jaw to start aching, dropping fevered kisses under and along Cas’s open collar, until he feels Cas pulling away, pulling at the fabric on Dean’s back. “Dean, stop,” he gasps, in a way that really isn’t conducive to helping Dean stop, but he is insistent, and Dean does stop - but not before leaving one last lingering bite on Cas’s shoulder. 

He draws back, and what he sees nearly makes him groan. Cas’s eyes are darker than Dean has ever seen them, feverish and wild. His tie is undone, and his shirt is wrinkled and laid open almost halfway, revealing reddened skin and shallow teeth marks along his collar bones. Dean looks up to meet Cas’s eyes, but Cas’s gaze is trained on Dean’s lips. It’s the only warning he gets before Cas surges forward and nips lightly at Dean’s bottom lip. It’s playful and naughty and Dean can really get on board with it - but Cas steps away carefully. He leans his torso in for one more chaste peck on Dean’s lips, lingering for only a few seconds, before he takes a larger step backward. 

“I think I would like to give time for my grace to restore before we continue any further than that,” Cas says, buttoning his shirt. His voice is noticeably affected. “I’m afraid any more… emotional upheaval will stall my recovery.”

Dean's hands clench, mourning the loss of Cas's skin. Hungrily, he watches Cas’s fingers dance over the buttons of his shirt and smirks, looking up at Cas’s face through his lashes. He feels good, emboldened. “What, too much for you, Cas?”

Whatever Dean thinks Cas’s reaction will be, it isn’t the expression of ferocity that greets him. “You will never be too much for me, Dean,” Cas says stubbornly. “If this grace wasn’t so vital to our success in trying to remove the mark, I would… without a moment’s thought… to be… close to you.”

Despite the gaps in his pronouncement, Dean understands. He’s overwhelmed. “Cas,” he protests, voice cracking. “I’m not worth giving up your grace.”

But Cas shakes his head, clenching his jaw. He really is beautiful, Dean thinks helplessly. 

“You are worth that and more, Dean Winchester. But until we get rid of the mark, we need as many advantages as we can get.” He steps back in to give Dean a searing kiss, but just as Dean begins to respond, Cas vanishes. He reappears in a spot about six feet away, smiling apologetically. “I think for now, I will keep my distance.” Dean’s frown seems to communicate to Cas what that sounds like, because he immediately amends, “But I will stay close by. I will watch over you tonight, if you wish.”

Dean knows they still have issues to work through, not the least of which is the issue of Cas’s grace, but he still smiles at Cas. He’ll give himself tonight, at least. He takes a step toward the angel. “Okay, tonight, sure - and tomorrow?”

Cas takes a careful step backwards. He runs a hand over his neck, which is still satisfyingly red. “If you can keep your hands to yourself.”

“Not guaranteed, buddy.”

“In that case...I will still be here.”

**Author's Note:**

> This took four hours. Can't guarantee all my updates will be as quick as this one, but long may this writing fever continue. 
> 
> surlybobbies is my sideblog on tumblr.


End file.
